Page 69 of Lavish
A bitter breath escaped my lips, the memory still causing a painful clenching in my chest.
I whirled around, a sudden rush of determination propelling me toward my bedroom.
“Serena!”
I didn’t stop. I had to get dressed and go. I was already late, and I didn’t like being late.
“This conversation is over,” I said.
I felt his hand wrap around my arm and spin me back.
“You keep talking to me like that, Serena…” His tone sent a chill straight down my spine. “One day, you’re gonna find out I’ll do it.”
“Do what?”
I could feel the tension in his chest as it rose and fell sharply, each breath brushing the space between us. My eyes flicked down—traitorously—to his mouth. Full, pink, parted like he was about to say something else, or maybe just bite back whatever he was thinking.
“I’m late.” I snatched my hand away from him and slammed my bedroom door in his face.
“Late for what, exactly?” Miles’s voice came through the door.
I leaned against the cool wooden door, taking a breath. I touched my chest—pressure always helped me calm down. I pressed down. Inhaled. Counted to four. Exhaled. Again.
King Developments couldn’t have any mistakes. That was all that mattered.
I shed my jacket, tossing it on the bed. What was I supposed to wear tonight?
“We’re not done talking, Serena. I can stand out here all night.”
The truth was, Ihadwalked away from us. I hadn’t just chosen my career—I’d chosen control. Stability. A future I could plan, execute, dominate. Love didn’t fit in that structure. Not his kind, anyway.
I told myself I was being smart. That Miles would be fine. He always bounced back.
But the way he looked at me tonight…
I heard a soft meow and turned to see Doughboy was in my room.
“How the hell…” I mumbled and shook my head at the orange cat giving me that sideways look. I quickly changed into a dress, but couldn’t find the shoes that went with it.
“Where are my shoes?” I asked the cat.
Doughboy stretched out more, his body spread across the comforter in a way that screamed,This is mine now. You may leave.
I narrowed my gaze. “You know you’re not supposed to be up there.”
It had always been Miles. Even when I told myself it was casual, even when I told him I couldn’t afford to be distracted.He’d wormed his way under my skin. And I’d let him. I liked how easy he made things feel.
I wasn’t good at this. At feelings. At regret. At admitting I might’ve chosen wrong.
Doughboy yawned, showing off tiny sharp teeth, then flopped over. He couldn’t have cared less about me or my rules.
“You’re a menace,” I muttered, walking over to shoo him off.
He stayed put, a furry ball of defiance.
I gave him a little nudge. “Off. Get off, Doughboy.”
He let out a grunt, glared, and hopped down with that superior cat attitude. As he landed, a black thing slid out from under him onto the floor.
